


Hips Don't Lie

by casstayinmyass



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Night Stands, Pole Dancer Clopin, Pole Dancing, Police Chief Phoebus, Rough Kissing, Sassy Clopin, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 02:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Phoebus convinces his friend Quasi to go out for a guy's night. He leaves with more than he bargained for.





	Hips Don't Lie

 

* * *

 

To say Phoebus was tired would be an understatement. He had worked long hours at the bureau that day, which he absolutely despised-- he joined the police force for the action, to get out and help people, not sit at a desk deciding if they should lay off Hugo for using his siren to skip the fast food drive thru line.

Such is the work of the chief, though.

Still, he was able to separate work from personal life. It was Friday, and he had made plans with his close friend, Quasimodo, that night. Pulling up at his place, he began to run over everything they could do-- Quasi was somewhat of a homebody, perfectly content to chill at home with a movie and some beer, but Phoebus felt personally responsible for the upkeep of the guy's social life. Tonight, they would go out.

"Quasi!" he shouted, letting himself in. He frowned. "You should really lock your-!"

"Careful," a voice hissed, and Phoebus paused, looking down in confusion. His friend was on the ground by his feet, slipping a spider onto a piece of paper before it could be stepped on. "There..."

"What the shit?" Phoebus muttered, and Quasi stood, smiling.

"This is Martha. I just got her at the pet store!"

Phoebus blinked, and wrinkled his nose at the tarantula. "Right. So, let's head out, then-"

"Woah, woah, wait!" Quasi stopped him, placing Martha on the table, "Real Housewives is on tonight! I thought we could... watch it."

"Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I love watching bitchy women bitch at each other," Phoebus deadpanned, gathering Quasi's things by the door to go out.

" _I_ like it," the shorter man muttered, shrugging, and finally accepted there was no way he could convince his friend to stay in. They got in the car, and Quasi sighed.

"How was your day?"

"Long. Hard. Everything I hope to be tonight."

"Oh, that's-- w-what?!"

The blonde police chief chuckled, and kept driving. "We're heading to a little establishment I've heard about from some guys at the station. It's the most popular one in town- The Gypsy's Tambourine."

"The Gypsy's Tambourine?" Quasi repeated, quirking his head, "Is it a music store?"

Phoebus sighed. Sometimes he wondered if his best friend had mentally graduated his tween years.

"No. It's a strip club."

"A--! A strip cl.... oh my god... oh, no... no, I can't possibly-"

"Relax, it'll be fun," Phoebus encouraged, "Who knows, you could even get laid."

"Phoebus!" Quasi bit his lip, and ran a hand through his hair. "No one looks twice at a guy like me!"

"You look fine," Phoebus shrugged, pulling into a back road, "I've said it before, I'll say it again- if you were my type, I'd completely sleep with you."

Quasi spent a few seconds speechless in the car as Phoebus got out. "I... thank you?"

Phoebus' eyes were wide open as he surveyed the stylish place, friend at his side. It was modern with a little old tavern, gypsy charm, and intoxicating music bounced against his eardrums. He took a seat, and regarded the poles.

"Show hasn't started yet. We got here just in time," he nudged Quasi, who gave a timid nod. Despite his nerves, there was a tad bit of interest in his eyes.

 _Well, good._ Phoebus smiled to himself, leaning back. He probably hoped he would find someone good for himself tonight, but it was unlikely in a place he didn't know, so this was just for the martinis, the good company of his friend, and the hopes Quasi would finally loosen up and have a fun time.

Back behind the purple curtains adorned with ringlets of gold, Clopin held Esmeralda's hair pins for her as she fixed herself up, two in his mouth, one on each finger, and one clipped onto the mask he wore.

"You look absolutely debonair tonight, my darling!" he trilled, and Esme grinned at him through her reflection as she smudged her eye shadow a little.

"Thanks, hun. I don't know what I'd do without your constant reminder that I'm gorgeous." She fluffed her hair, placed the purple hair band on, and swished past Clopin with a smirk, leaving him frowning.

"Genuine or sarcastic?" he muttered, then nodded decidedly. "Both."

They both got ready to go out, putting the finishing touches on their costumes and making sure all their accessories were there.

"Ah, I never asked you-- how is Jasmine taking your work here?" Clopin asked his fellow dancer. Esme looked over at him, and shrugged.

"She thinks it's hot."

"No! She does?" Clopin cackled, and slapped his knee. "And here you were, worrying all over the place about her _dumping_ you once you told her. Tell her to come in! Complimentary access."

"Like Frollo'd ever let that happen in his establishment," Esme laughed.

"Touché." They went out.

Phoebus watched the dancers in awe. His co-workers were right... this place had some attractive people-- he wondered why he hadn't taken their advice sooner.

His eyes roamed from the attractive male dancers on the left, right to...

" _Wow_ ," he muttered, sitting forward. The man in the middle had an almost court jester-like costume on, exposing his midriff and lithe legs, with a fuchsia half mask hiding dark eyes and jingle bell shoes to complete the look. He was everything Phoebus wanted-- oddly unorthodox, mysterious, agile, and by the looks of his moves, _flexible_. He shouted something with a wink, and in a puff of pink, glittery smoke, the sexy gypsy man was gone and in his place was a younger dancer, an equally flexible woman in a purple and white outfit. While Phoebus could appreciate her appearance, he wondered where the other guy had gone-- he didn't have to wonder long though, as the man came twirling down from the beams above to wrap his legs around a pole, swinging and flipping athletically. It seemed the young woman was the main attraction-- even Quasi becoming interested in her-- but Phoebus kept his eye on the shorter man, watching how he moved, flexed, swung around the pole with acrobatic ease. He sure was giving main-woman a run for her money.

"What a man," he murmured to himself, and Clopin twirled his way, doing a dramatic Russian Splits on the pole.

 _Mon dieu..._ Clopin smirked to himself, _the man in the front row is a looker. A little rough around the edges... but when don't I enjoy it rough?_ With a little laugh, he swung around again, grinding obscenely against the pole for Phoebus' eyes only.

He always seemed to pick out the hot ones in the crowd, and put a on a personal show for them. Tonight, as it so happened, it would be blonde beefcake.

Phoebus was captivated. Every time the brunette man with the beard looked his way, it was as if he was being teased. The dancer was playful, a free spirit, he could tell-- but every time he swung close, he would pull away with a wag of his finger, and Phoebus could honestly say, he'd never wanted a man more than he wanted this mysteriously exotic performer.

"You look pretty into it," Quasi joked, reinforcing the veil between reality and fantasy for Phoebus, "Did you find your one true love?"

Phoebus swallowed, cracking a dopey smile in an effort to seem somewhat coherent. "One true lay, maybe."

"Oh, I'd want to spend days, hours, weeks with the lady in the middle," Quasi told his friend dreamily.

"Common reaction when you go to these places," Phoebus shrugged, never tearing his eyes off of the man, "You... you just gotta remember..." He began to fade back out, "They're working... only... working... mmm..."

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?" Quasi laughed, and turned back Esmeralda's way with his hands clasped together.

Clopin pranced across the stage to switch poles with Esmeralda. She smirked at him as he went by.

"Did you see that handsome-"

"Blonde?" Clopin chuckled, "What do you think?"

"Well, he's nice," she whispered, doing a twirl, "But the shorter one..."

"The redhead?" Clopin made a face, and Esmeralda nudged him. He just smiled, clasping the hard metal of the pole.

"Now now, Esme, just think of your sweet, virtuous Jasmine, waiting for you at home."

Esmeralda let out a snort. "She's be overjoyed if I brought him home."

"Well, you can have that one then," Clopin licked his lips, "I want that _grande boisson d'eau_ in the front row."

"He looks ready to fall to his knees for you."

"Oh, he will," Clopin chuckled darkly, "By the end of this night, I swear it, my dear."

He did a backflip, and picked himself back up on the pole, hoisting his legs up so he could rub against the pole again. To say it was doing things to him to watch the blonde eye him like that was an understatement- he hoped his arousal could show through the tight purple pants he wore.

He bounced up, wrapping his legs around the top of the pole and falling upside down. He took his mask off, and tossed out to the guy.

"What's your name?" blonde asked, "I'm Phoebus."

Clopin bit his lip. He wanted to tell him... but the jester in him that his costume suggested prevailed. He just put a finger to Phoebus' lips, and danced away, shaking his ass.

"Just working, huh?" Quasi smirked, and Phoebus laughed nervously. God, he wanted to tear all those clothes off and just pin the slippery, sexy little guy down before absolutely _wrecking_ him-

"If you would like to know my name, mon amour... meet me at the bar in five minutes," Clopin suddenly hissed to him with another wink and a slap to his ass, and Phoebus swallowed. His voice was hypnotic; unforgettable. With that, Clopin did another flip away, swung around the pole once more, and sauntered behind the curtain.

"Lucky," Quasi murmured, resting his chin on his fist, "I'd never-"

"Hey," Esmeralda jumped down, taking Quasi's arm, "My girlfriend's into experimenting with someone else. Do you wanna maybe... head back to my place?" Phoebus leaned into his friend.

"You'd be an idiot not to take this bait."

"Well," Quasi sighed, "It's not true love..." He stared deep into Esme's eyes. "But I guess it'll do!"

Phoebus chuckled, but his attention was once again captured by the flash of purple, yellow, and magenta zipping through the crowd of people. He followed it toward the bar, and saw the back of the dancer.

"You," Phoebus muttered, "God, I don't think I could've sat through anymore of that-- it was torture."

"That bad, eh?" Clopin grinned, spinning around on the stool. Phoebus shook his head with a grin equally as wide, a little more predatory.

"You're..."

"Exotic? Beautiful? Ridiculously talented?"

" _Annoying_."

Clopin's eyes widened, but he was intrigued. "And you..." he leaned in, brushing his lips against Phoebus' cheek as if to tell him a dark secret, "Have the perfect lips for sucking cock." Phoebus choked, and Clopin nodded. "Yes, good monsieur, practice makes perfect." Phoebus was stunned. He'd been with a few guys, but none had been this forthright- it was turning him on faster than he was prepared for.

"What makes you think I'll be sucking yours?" Phoebus retorted, and Clopin raised an eyebrow.

"Because the fantasy you're imagining right now is of me, standing over you, as you wait for me on your hands and knees to tell you you're a good boy, that you _deserve_ it."

"Lucky guess," Phoebus scowled. He took a seat next to the man. "So would it be a crime if I bought you a drink?"

"To be honest, mon cher... waiting any longer would be the worst crime of all."

Phoebus exhaled, smiling. Good- he couldn't wait either. They exited the place, and got into Phoebus' car once the man told him Esme was 100% taking Quasi home, and he didn't have to worry about him. Once they got to the police chief's place, they barely got in the door before Clopin was on him, fingers already working his belt and lips already making a trail up his face.

"Clopin."

Phoebus stopped momentarily as they kissed passionately against the wall. "What?"

"Clopin, that's my name," the man breathed in his high, almost musical voice, capturing his lips back. Phoebus slammed him against the wall again, and pinned his slender wrists there. There was a little struggle, but Clopin soon felt Phoebus' sizeable erection pressing into his thigh, and that was enough to make him go pliant.

"You know, I'm a children's puppeteer during the day at a local theatre," Clopin stated, smiling so that their teeth knocked together through the kiss. Phoebus drew back, an expression of confusion etched onto his face.

"That's real nice, why is it relevant in the middle of heated-"

Clopin smacked Phoebus upside the head. "It means I'm good with my _hands_ , cher."

The shorter, bearded man smirked in invitation, and Phoebus breathed out, nudging his hips forward. As they returned to wet kisses and dirty intentions, Clopin reached into Phoebus' pants, feeling him fill out even more as he took him out and stroked.

"I'm going to touch you all over this gorgeous body until you come so hard the only name you remember is mine. Then I'm going to-"

"Fuck," Phoebus muttered on an upstroke, and Clopin nipped his ear.

" _Don't_ interrupt me. Then I'm going to watch you _kneel_ and take me in your mouth... savouring all that I have to give you."

"Christ, Clopin..."

"So nice," Clopin chuckled, pressing a kiss right to Phoebus' jaw line, "Joli garçon. _Pretty boys_ like you always used to make fun of me, because I wasn't strong and muscular like they were."

"What?" Phoebus looked genuinely troubled by this. "Why would anybody-"

"So I realized the only way to get what I truly want in this world-" Clopin's lips curled into an evil smile, and he squeezed the head of Phoebus' cock, sending waves of pleasure through him. "Was to show them just how _irresistible_ I can be." Clopin let out a little sigh of pleasure as he watched Phoebus come, and ground his own erection into the blonde's thigh. "My turn!" he giggled gleefully, and Phoebus grabbed Clopin by his shoulders, trailing his hand down to grope him. In a second, the confident, giggling man he was before melted away, and his eyelids fluttered as he pushed his hips forward. "Please... s'il vous plais..."

"Do you need it?" Phoebus muttered, "Yeah, you do... I'm the best damn lover you'll ever have."

"That's what they all say," Clopin deadpanned, before Phoebus grabbed him, jerking him fast and rough, reaching back to squeeze the other man's balls and stroke along his hole. "Ah, merde! This is-!" Clopin cut himself off with a loud moan, and he began whining, grasping onto Phoebus' muscular chest. "Please, Phoebus... I do need you..."

Phoebus smirked. Clopin looked so desperate-- the exotic man was desperate for him, and him alone right now. The dancer's moans and groans grew louder as he rocked his hips harder, his legs bouncing up to wrap around Phoebus' backside, and Phoebus felt sweat rolling down his own forehead.

 Before Clopin could climax, they took things to Phoebus' bedroom, where Phoebus flipped over and let Clopin crawl backward on the bed.

"This is a very luxurious bed," Clopin remarked absently, batting his eyelashes, "Mine is like sleeping on a brick. Can I come over more often?"

Phoebus promptly shut him up by mouthing over his very tight pants, feeling the hard outline of Clopin's cock, and he pulled them down with his teeth, growling a little. Clopin tossed his head back, eyebrows drawing together as Phoebus took him carefully into hand, then into his warm, wet mouth.

"Ahhhh, mon cher, you are absolutely sinful," Clopin laughed joyously, burying his fingers into Phoebus' hair, "So, so good..."

"Mmmph," Phoebus mumbled back, and scowled as Clopin thrust into his mouth.

"Quiet," he scolded, tapping a finger down on Phoebus' head, "It's rude to talk with your mouth full." Phoebus grumbled, but hollowed out his cheeks, eyes closing. Clopin was getting close, and he wanted to take full advantage of the mouth he was currently buried in. He started rolling his hips forward, testing at first to see how Phoebus would react, then when he felt the blonde deep throating him, he continued to fuck his mouth.

"Such a good, dirty little whore," Clopin slapped his cheek fondly, gripping his chin between two fingers and squishing his lips together, "I love a pretty face to look down at when I come."

Phoebus promptly popped off. "A minute ago you were begging against the wall while I stroked you off! Who's the whore here?"

Clopin chuckled. "You have a point." He cried out again as Phoebus took him in his mouth once more, and bit his lip, biting back a sob. "You are a giver in every sense, aren't you?"

"When it counts," Phoebus replied simply, licking a stripe up the vein.

"Ahh... ohhhhh...." Clopin lifted his hips up, pulling at his own hair in desperation, and after a second and a loud shriek of his name, Clopin came hard down Phoebus' throat. A little spilled from his lips, and the dancer giggled, crawling down to meet his companion.

"You've got some in your beard, cher," he snickered, going to wipe it out with his thumb, but Phoebus just smiled through a kiss with the smaller man.

"Something to remember you by."

Clopin sat back on his heels, and they stared at each other on the bed in a few seconds of silence.

"That's rather disgusting."

"Yeah, that's pretty gross, actually..."

They erupted into laughter, and Phoebus invited Clopin under the covers, getting under them himself. At this point, the dancer was halfway through putting his clothes back on... he turned back with surprise in his eyes.

"You... want me to stay?"

Phoebus shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "You can... if you want. And only if you want! I know it'll only be for one night, 'cause you've obviously got your... puppet stuff... tomorrow."

Clopin placed a hand over his heart. "Nobody's ever asked me to stay until morning, mon chou..." He jumped up, ripping his clothes back off and diving under the covers at breakneck speed. "Okay! In the morning, I want avocado toast with four _tomates cerises_ exactly-- too many tomatoes, and my stomach hurts-- a scalding hot cup of coffee with hazelnut coffeemate-"

" _Woooah_ , woah woah woah," Phoebus halted him, raising his eyebrows. Clopin looked up at him with sad puppy eyes, crestfallen at the objection, so the blonde deflated, chuckling softly. "...I don't cook. We'll be ordering all that _in_."

Clopin pumped a triumphant fist, and Phoebus shut the light out, silencing the sexy, energetic dancer with a small, affectionate whack and an affectionate kiss.

 


End file.
